Prey for Us Page 13

  “That’s not so important. The bottom line is that—”

  “But I do want to know what you did to her,” Thane said, looking earnestly at her.

  “Well, I had a pocket knife...”

  “My God,” Thane said.

  “I forced her face down and wrung her long blond hair into a ponytail before slicing it an inch from her scalp. I ran from the gym through a side door. To this day, I believe the teachers overreacted by calling an ambulance. Our tussle drew blood from her nose and mouth. I didn’t plan for that, but she wouldn’t listen when I told her to be still.”

  “Wow,” Thane said, his eyes had glazed over as he envisioned Morana’s story.

  “The principal wanted to expel me, but I persuaded him that I had been the victim of their bullying for weeks. He agreed to only suspend me. During my time out of school, I went to each of the girls’ houses at night so I could see into their lit bedrooms from outside. I taped a thinly braided lock of Tammy’s hair with a note outside each of their bedroom windows.”

  “What did the note say?”

  “Stay out of my hair, and I’ll stay out of yours.”

  Thane laughed and shook his head.

  “You approve?” Morana asked.

  He nodded. “You so rarely hear about bullies getting what they deserve. They always seem to get away with it.” He looked up to the corner of the ceiling in thought. “Did the note work?”

  “Like a charm.”

  “They never bothered you again—at all?”

  “Ever!”

  “I don’t think Waylon has enough hair for me to do that.” They laughed.

  “You know,” Morana said, “I’ve never shared this story with anyone. I hope I can trust you to keep it between us. I wouldn’t have mentioned it, but based on what you’ve shared with me, it seemed right to tell you about my experience since we’ve both been victims.”

  “I won’t tell anyone,” Thane promised.

  “Thank you. Bullying is my trigger. It’s one of the few things that can make me lose my temper. If you’re a victim and a friend, I’m your best advocate. I wish I could heal you,” she said. She came back to him and sat beside him on the mattress. They hugged.

  “I’ll probably never get even with Waylon. I’m left to hope that fate takes care of it. Before his constant radio commercials, I would look him up. Not often, maybe once a year.”

  “Why?”

  “I hate to say it, but I sometimes hope to discover that something’s happened to him and he's gone forever so I can be free.”

  “Gone as in… dead?”

  “That sounds horrible, doesn’t it?”

  “Given what you endured, I can’t blame you.”

  “I hope my dream of freedom will come true someday. I’m superstitious. My dreams and nightmares come true. I dreamed about having my own workshop,” he pointed up. “I dreamed about learning the secret to Master Leedskalnin’s teachings. That happened, too. But the nightmares always seem to have the best chance of becoming real, and I feel like I can’t make them stop. Each time I looked Waylon up, I was afraid doing so would bring him back into my life—and it has.”

  “Thane, what if we could confront Waylon together?”

  “Except that I want nothing to do with him. Seeking contact has brought nothing but problems for me. At this point, I only want him out of my life.”

  “After your confrontation at the job fair, you’ve rekindled his memory of you. It will take a long time for him to forget you. Now he wants to hurt you—or worse. That was clear in the voicemail message. I won’t let that happen. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  “That’s kind of you, but you can only do so much.”

  Morana said, “I just...” She paused, searching for the right words.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t want to alarm you.”

  Thane looked puzzled.

  Morana took a deep breath and said, “I make it a point always to be ready to protect myself.” She patted her hip.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I carry.”

  “You mean a gun?”

  Morana gave a small nod.

  “Oh.” Thane stared at her hip.

  “Have you ever used a gun?” Morana asked. She stood and stepped back to avoid towering over him.

  “No. My mom owned one, but she never allowed me to shoot or touch it.” He stood and came closer to her. “Where is your gun? I still can’t see it.” He stared at her thumb hooked through her belt loop.

  “It’s a concealed holster.” She raised the front of her shirt, reached under her belt and slid out a compact pistol she had retrieved from Clay’s stash.

  Thane stepped back.

  “Does my having a gun bother you?” she asked.

  “I’m not against guns, but I need to ask you not to bring guns into the sub-lair.”

  “I promise it’s safe.” She released the magazine and checked the chamber to ensure that it was unloaded. “Would you like to hold it? Here…” She held it out by the slide, offering him the grip.

  “No.”

  “I only carry for personal protection. I gave you my word that I wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt you and I keep my word.” She re-holstered the gun and adjusted her shirt to conceal it.

  “So, you’re prepared to kill someone?” Thane said.

  “Only if I had no other choice.”

  Thane said, “The gun is a bigger risk to you down here than it is to me.”

  “Why?”

  “If it were to discharge and happened to kill me accidentally, you’ll be trapped in here—forever.”

  “Won’t the lift block still work?”

  “What an interesting response,” Thane said, smiling.

  Morana held up her hands. “I’m sorry, that sounded horrible.”

  “The lift block won’t work without me.” Thane opened his arms and pivoted, “Another problem is that firing a gun down here would cause structural damage I’m not willing to accept.”

  “But it’s solid rock.”

  “Composed of coral limestone that shatters like glass. The potential for injury from ricochet is enormous. You need to be as careful to avoid shooting me as I have been to avoid crushing you.”

  Morana looked again at the pristine walls, floor, and ceiling.

  Thane said, “Cutting and quarrying this space took thousands of hours. I could have finished sooner, but I was unwilling to compromise on precision.”

  “If damage occurred, couldn’t you repair it?”

  “Firing the gun isn’t an option,” Thane snapped. “Your weapon has no practical function in this environment.”

  “I’m sorry. No, of course not.”

  As quickly as Thane’s anger flashed, it vanished.

  Morana went to him and cupped her hand on his cheek. “Sweetheart, I understand your concern. I don’t need the gun to help you.”

  “We should go back up,” Thane said, going to the doorway.

  As they exited the bedroom, Morana said, “How many people have seen the sub-lair?”

  “This has been an exclusive tour.”

  “I’m honored. But I have to ask… why me?”

  They rounded the corner and entered the lift chamber. Thane looked up and rubbed his throat. “Because you take what I do seriously. Your interest in Master Leedskalnin’s experiments is admirable. I believe you when you say you love privacy. You’ve shown me respect. And probably the most important reason is that I don’t want to put the additional locks on the garage that you wanted me to. Rather than giving you a series of vague objections, I concluded that I should simply show you. I hope it wasn’t a mistake, but I committed to it despite the risk.”

  “There won’t be any risk,” Morana said, embracing him with the side of his face pressed against her breasts.

  When she let go, Thane blushed, looking down.

  To cut the awkwardness, she said
, “So are you sure Clay knows nothing about the sub-lair?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Good.”

  “Why does that please you? You don’t trust Clay?”

  “Sometimes Clay,” Morana paused, “let’s say he has difficulty containing his excitement.”

  “I’ve observed that, too.”

  “How so?”

  “I like Clay,” Thane said. “He is always kind to me at my uncle’s office, and he did offer to help me with the accident situation even if that help amounted to introducing me to you. I told him about my discovery and then showed him. I knew it was impressive, but I didn’t realize how it would affect him. He was excited—I expected that. But then after he left, he started calling frequently. And then in the following days, he dropped by without calling in advance. He seems to lack self-control.”

  “Don’t worry. I will talk to him,” Morana said.

  “No, please don’t! I only shared that because you know him. I don’t want to offend him. He is just a bit aggressive. In retrospect, I should have kept quiet about my discovery.”

  “But then we would never have met.”

  “True.”

  “Are you sorry you showed me?” Morana asked, wincing.

  “Not yet.”

  She laughed. “That’s okay. I accept your suspicion while I prove my loyalty.”

  The solid column of rock that had filled the lift shaft began sliding down in the wall beside them, startling Morana. She had not seen Thane press or manipulate any object in the chamber. “How did you start that?” she asked.

  “Sensors.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “No.”

  “Even though you won’t share your secrets with me, I still want to thank you for trusting me enough to share your private worlds.”

  “Worlds?”

  “Yes, the world in which you were victimized by Waylon and this wonderful new physical world you’ve created.” She gently kissed his cheek.

  Thane stood frozen for a moment. “You’re welcome.”

  “I wonder if I could stay here with you—for a little longer,” Morana asked.

  “How much longer?”

  “What if I said... Overnight?”

  Thane’s head jerked at the suggestion.

  “I’m good company—I promise,” Morana coaxed, fingering a button on his shirt.

  “But I don’t know where you would sleep.”

  “Where do you sleep?”

  Thane turned away and laughed. “Mostly in there.” He pointed toward the bedroom.

  “Well, I’m an extremely low-maintenance guest. I can be comfortable almost anywhere.”

  “I don’t know.”

  She took his hand. “I’ve enjoyed my time with you so much. We’ve only been down here a short time, yet I’m feeling sad about leaving. Can we just spend some more time together—back in your room?”

  Thane let go and wrung his hands. “Maybe you can visit another time.”

  “Alright, I accept your invitation since you are so adamant that I come back.”

  Thane laughed, visibly relaxing.

  The top of the lift slid down into view, slowing smoothly to a stop.

  “You first.” He pointed to the opening.

  Morana stepped onto it. Thane joined her and turned so that his back was to her. Morana said, “Do you mind facing me? I’d feel more comfortable.”

  “I suppose,” Thane said, laughing nervously.

  Morana pulled him closer. “It’ll be easier for me to avoid touching the wall if you hold me.”

  Thane took her hand, and with his other one, pressed the black panel button on the shaft wall. High overhead, the large Gateway block lifted, and air from the sub-lair chamber rushed past them and up the shaft.

  When the Gateway block stopped, the lift ascended smoothly raising them toward it. Beside them, the opening to the sub-lair chamber vanished, and the shaft went dark as they ascended toward the small square opening of light ten stories above them.

  Morana pulled Thane’s arms around her waist. She gently rested her chin on the top of his head. She caressed his back.

  At the first lift stop, Thane delayed pressing the wall panel.

  Morana kissed his forehead. She took his head in her hands, and they kissed.

  “I hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable,” Morana said.

  “It didn’t.” Thane freed one of his hands to press the wall panel, taking them closer to the surface. The shaft’s opening above grew larger, and more light poured in. After three more stops, the lift stopped in the garage at the base of the Gateway block’s mold.

  Thane hesitated. “I guess we should get off.” He let go of her, but Morana continued to hold him.

  “Can I make a request?” she said.

  “Of course.”

  She lifted his chin to her with a finger and said, “Please don’t make me wait too long for my next sub-lair visit.”

  Thane smiled and nodded. He turned away to hide his arousal.

  Morana stepped off the lift. “Whew.” She walked to the side of the Gateway block mold and climbed back up to the floor of the garage, moving around the edge to Thane’s workbench where she saw a small lamp beside a stapler and a pen holder on the edge of the countertop. She removed one of three identical black pens from the pen holder and tucked it into her pocket.

  Thane eventually climbed out of the Gateway block mold and said, “I need you to step outside for a minute.”

  “Of course,” she said, heading for the door.

  Thane followed her and closed the door.

  In the next minutes, she heard a faint hiss. When it stopped, Thane opened the door for her.

  When she entered the garage, the Gateway block no longer hung in the air. It was back in the foundation with a barely-visible seam around its edge. Thane had also lowered the smaller work block to the floor where it resumed its role as a desk. He stared at her.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  Thane didn’t answer. He stood motionless.

  “Have I made you uncomfortable?”

  “No, not at all.” He glanced around the shop. “Something is not right,” he said.

  Morana looked in all the same places Thane looked but saw nothing different.

  “Someone has been in here,” he said, walking a few steps away.

  “How do you know?”

  Thane pointed to the large garage door. “And someone touched the window cover.” A corner of the brown paper that covered one of the windows was folded back, exposing a sliver of light that streamed in at the pane’s edge. He went back to the entrance where Morana stood and examined the ground near her feet. “It happened while we were below.”

  “Are you sure?” Morana asked.

  “Look, right there,” Thane said, his voice tense. He pointed to the black area rug with the golden locks on it. In addition to the few prints left by Morana’s and his shoes, a half dozen large shoe prints traversed it, some with the toe pointing in and the others pointing out. “This is bad,” Thane said. He threw the door open and went outside.

  Morana followed him.

  Thane pointed to the window pane with the altered paper. “Look! It’s a hand-heel print.” Thane got closer to it and pointed to an oblong dust smudge on the edge of the window.

  Morana watched Thane scratch his neck, leaning for a better angle to examine the evidence of trespassing.

  “Are you sure that smudge wasn’t there before?”

  “It was not there! This is new!” Thane shouted.

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” Morana said. “Sweetheart, you have to calm down. That isn’t going to help you.” She looked around the backyard. Most of the property behind the main house was fully exposed, with no place for anyone to hide. The only hidden area was a narrow space behind the garage and a narrow walkway along the wall of the house opposite the driveway.

  Mor
ana slipped her fingers to her pistol as she walked around the corner of the garage. When she was out of Thane’s view, she pulled out the pistol and sidestepped along the wall. She peered around the rear corner. It was clear. She holstered the gun and went back to Thane.

  “And look, here,” Thane said, still sleuthing the evidence. He had moved along the garage wall to a place behind his truck. “Look! More shoe prints and they’re unique.” He used his finger to draw an oval around one of them. It had a tic-tac-toe pattern surrounding a logo that resembled a leaf. “And look, here’s a knee print,” Thane tapped his finger on the concrete beside the impression. “Somebody knelt right there and looked under the door after I vented it!”

  “How do you see this?”

  “Because of the sprinkling!” Thane brushed past her and walked to the main house’s back door. He leaned close to the knob, examining it. When Morana came to him, he said, “Here, too—there’s a grab. Someone checked this door.”

  “Thane, I hope this question doesn’t anger you, but can you tell me what the sprinkling is?”

  “It’s a sprinkling. I sprinkle. There’s no tricking it.”

  “I beg your pardon…”

  “It’s powder—just lightly. It always tells the truth.”

  “I think I understand,” Morana said, stepping closer.

  “What type of powder is it?”

  “I make it. It’s part talcum, part brown rice powder. It’s difficult to see unless you know what to look for.”

  “So, you use this powder—”

  “Everywhere. I use it everywhere,” he said, jiggling the knob.

  “But what good is the powder if it only tells you something happened after the fact? We need to get you a camera system.”

  “No! I hate cameras. Cameras ruin privacy. I don’t want my privacy invaded. My powder may seem primitive, but its reporting is flawless.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry I suggested it.” She tried to take his hand, but he pulled back and said, “What if it was Waylon?”

  “It’s another reason for me to be with you—so I can protect you.”

  “Will you shoot him?” Thane said, pointing to her hip.

  “We’re not in the sub-lair anymore. And that’s another reason I think I should stay with you.”

  “No.”

  “Let me protect you.”

  “I don’t need protection right now, I need privacy.”